


you and me and the devil makes three

by pecanpi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Halloween, Horny Bottomi, Jealous Atsumu, M/M, Makes the world go round, Making Out, Mild Blood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, a tiny bit o degradation, a tiny bit o praise, but it’s halloween vampire makeup so idk, despite the title there are no threesomes sorry, furudate 2020, i obviously have no idea what i’m doing, idk what to say it’s always halloween in my soul, is this canon-compliant?, jk i’ve just been ultra busy cuz 2020 decided to hit Hard the past two weeks, lmao jk, me: oh haven’t u heard? /invents hallovember, oh dude i was like 5k in before i even researched this thing n discovered it was a legit kink whoops, satin... play?, sexual favours in semi-public places, shit ok i have to actually think of tags ugh ummm, that is my hc for omi-bee, um, wait wtf is satin/jon snow WHAT, who knows these days amirite lmao, you can prefer to be clean n still be Sexy, y’all: uhh moo have u looked at a calendar lately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pecanpi/pseuds/pecanpi
Summary: A vampire, a zombie apocalypse survivor, and the Devil walk into a bar.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 141





	you and me and the devil makes three

Atsumu openly stared, seething at the two men necking in the dark corner of the bar. _What the fuck is he thinkin’?_ His lip curled in disgust as the stranger, a shorter, burlier man dressed in a tacky devil costume, hungrily sucked and lapped at Sakusa’s neck like it was an oasis, and he a man dying of thirst. How the _fuck_ was that the same MSBY hitter who perpetually lived in a face mask and a cloud of hand sanitizer? What made it even more disturbing was that Sakusa actually seemed to be _enjoying_ it, his eyes closed, head leaned back against the wall, lips barely parted as a hand lazily ran through Satan’s hair. An ugly chill curdled in Atsumu’s chest at the sight.

But, _Christ_ , he looked good. When Bokuto and Hinata had announced they were all going out to the bars for Halloween earlier tonight, Sakusa had surprised everyone by dutifully dressing as a vampire in a white, satin poet shirt, a dark, flowing cape, and fitted, black pants stuffed into leather boots that made his legs look a mile long. The blouse had a tantalizingly low cut that allowed the wing spiker’s well-defined chest to flirtatiously peek through with every move he made. Much to Atsumu’s dismay and delight, he had topped it all off with fake blood that dripped from a corner of his mouth and down his chin, leading to a couple of small, tasteful splatters on the white satin. The stark contrast of crimson against Sakusa’s pale skin and the otherwise-spotless shirt had ensnared his attention; Atsumu had had to shake his head to clear it when the thought of licking him clean leapt to mind, unbidden.

( _“You look good, Omi-Omi.”_

_“...Thanks. And what exactly are you supposed to be? Some kind of delinquent?” Sakusa arched a skeptic brow at him, pointedly eyeing his costume up and down._

_Atsumu scoffed and proudly struck a pose. “I’m the ruggedly-handsome survivor of a zombie apocalypse! See? Trusty baseball bat for a weapon! Scuffed-up combat boots! Torn-up jeans! Grungy tank top! Dirty, ol’ flannel!”_

_“Oh, it looks dirty alright. Looks like you got some on your face there, too. Ever heard of face wash, Miya?” Sakusa asked with faux innocence, squinting at his makeup of dirt and oil stains._

_“Shut up, Omi-kun, before I decide to go as a vampire hunter instead,” he huffed, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the mischievous smile and the trail of scarlet, ears burning a little as his stomach flipped._ )

Now, though, the once artfully-arranged blood had been smeared across Sakusa’s lips and throat by the lecherous devil, a masterpiece tainted by spit and greed. Atsumu’s hand flexed around the grip of his baseball bat, half-wishing for a good reason to use it. He settled instead for a vivid fantasy of ripping the man off of Sakusa and claiming him as his own, à la male lead of a romance novel. 

As if summoned by the waves of jealousy rolling off of Atsumu, dark eyes cracked open and instantly locked on to his. The setter sucked in a breath and straightened his back, all thoughts momentarily shoved aside. Unable to look away, a thrill raced through him as the brunet suggestively ran his tongue over his teeth, lips curling in a knowing smirk, hooded eyes holding Atsumu’s gaze for several long seconds as he untied his cape and tossed it carelessly over a chair. Atsumu swallowed at the scene before him, watching stupidly as Sakusa downed the rest of his drink and nudged the stranger with his empty cup, murmuring with a tiny pout. The man eagerly grabbed it out of his hand, gave him another bruising kiss, and left to battle for the bartender’s attention.

Atsumu slammed back the remainder of his own beer and glowered at the retreating devil as he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. He swung the bat onto a shoulder and stalked his way over to Sakusa, growling in frustration when the other man merely cocked an eyebrow at him with a smug smile.

“What the _hell_ was that, Omi-kun?”

“What the hell was what, Miya?” Sakusa chirped innocently, raising his eyebrows with a slow blink as he feigned ignorance.

“Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Ya won’t let anyone even touch your stuff without goin’ through a sterilization chamber, but you’ll let that... that _leech_ swap spit with ya in a sleazy bar?” 

“I enjoy being clean, Miya, but I’m not _that_ neurotic. I can get down and dirty with the rest of them when I feel like it,” Sakusa gave him a withering look as if _he_ was the one acting out-of-character. 

Atsumu snorted in disbelief and reached for a satin sleeve, “C’mon, Omi. You’re obviously drunk.”

“Don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not, Miya,” Sakusa snapped at him, but allowed the setter to pinch the fabric between his fingers, “I’ve only had three drinks so far. I’m more than capable enough to handle myself and make my own decisions. You, on the other hand, are about to take someone’s eye out with that thing in your hand. Besides, it’s none of your damn business. Why do you even care who I ‘swap spit’ with, as you so eloquently put it?”

Atsumu faltered and gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “I– I don’t! I just… don’t think... that guy’s a good choice.” He winced at the lame finish.

“Why not? He’s cute, and apparently loaded. Like you said, it’s a sleazy bar. No one here cares. It’s not like we’re _fucking_ over here.”

Atsumu’s cheeks flamed at his words, hand involuntarily tightening its hold on his teammate as he clamped his lips together and looked away. Kiyoomi glanced down at his grip before flicking his eyes back up at him curiously. 

“Miya. Are you... are you _jealous_?” he asked with obvious, malevolent glee. 

“No! I... n-no!!” Atsumu lied, shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh really? Then who do _you_ think a good choice would be? Bokuto? Hinata? ...Your _brother_?” the vampire taunted.

“NO!” Atsumu shouted, horrified. A nearby gaggle of women dressed as various sexy woodland critters turned inquisitively at the outburst before exchanging excited whispers, casting coy, appreciative glances at the two handsome men. Under any other circumstances, Atsumu would have preened at the attention and maybe flirted with a few of them, but he had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. “I just... look, I don’t care what you do, but that guy... _ugh_ , c’mon. There’s too many people here and I don’t want Lucifer interruptin’.”

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes as the blond dragged him into a dark, secluded hallway towards the back of the establishment. “Make it quick, Miya. I want that drink.”

“Quit callin’ me that, y’know I hate it!” Atsumu whirled around, nostrils flaring. Sakusa casually leaned back against the wall again, kicking his long legs out and cocking his head with a coquettish smile.

“Make it quick, _Atsumu_. I want that drink.”

The setter stared at the smug man before him. No honorifics, no hint of a transition, no warning whatsoever. Just... _Atsumu_. The butterflies in his chest threatened to consume him as the word echoed in his mind. Sakusa’s eyes danced as they bored into him, the personification of a cat who had just cornered its prey. Atsumu could practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off of the hitter at his speechlessness.

“Well?” Sakusa purred, licking his lips. Atsumu’s eyes tracked the tantalizingly slow drag of his tongue, marveling at the fake blood that looked more and more like smeared lipstick with each passing second. He drank in the alluring sight of the dark-haired man, unconsciously stepping closer to him. The cacophony of reds and pinks smeared across his neck by the stranger earlier made Atsumu’s skin crawl. He wanted to scrub him clean, to make his skin as flawless as it usually was, to cover any revolting hickeys with his own territorial marks. His hands, still clutching Sakusa’s sleeve in one and the knob of his bat in the other, twitched with the desire to touch him. 

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Yes...?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow at him in mock encouragement.

“Yes, I was jealous. Am jealous. But you’re right, it’s none of my business. I lost my head for a second there... I’m sorry,” he gritted out. 

Kiyoomi blinked at the unexpected admission. “Hm.” _Interesting_. “So what’re you gonna do about it?” 

“I... what?”

“I _said_ ,” Sakusa stretched his free hand down to the bat that hung by Atsumu’s side, long fingers lightly ghosting along the smooth, hard wood, creeping closer and closer towards his frozen, white-knuckled hand, “‘what’re you gonna do about it?’”

He peered up at the stunned blond through his eyelashes for a brief moment before wrapping his fingers around the handle and abruptly yanking it towards himself. Atsumu gasped as he lurched forward, his hand flying up from Sakusa’s sleeve to brace himself against the wall, face now less than a foot away from the other man’s. Sakusa snickered at him, unbothered and perfectly comfortable, as if this change in distance between them had no effect on him whatsoever.

Atsumu squinted in annoyance at the vampire’s mirth. _Well, at least_ one _of us is havin’ fun here._ He caught sight of a particularly dark bruise forming below Sakusa’s earlobe and felt a brief echo of his earlier temper ripple through him. His jaw clenched at the raw feeling. _No, y’know what? Two can play at this game._

“I wonder,” he pitched his voice lower and leaned even closer, a surge of confidence spurring him on when Sakusa instantly stifled his giggles with a bite of his lip, dark eyes falling upon Atsumu’s smirk. “What d’ya _want_ me to do about it?” He let go of the bat and grabbed Sakusa’s chin instead, tilting it up as his thumb grazed a swollen lower lip. Sakusa stayed silent, breathing a little quicker and shallower than before. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered as Atsumu studied him closely. 

“Does it turn ya on, knowin’ I was jealous? Knowin’ how badly I wanted to tear that fuckin’ perv off ya? Is that what ya like hearin’?”

Dark eyes narrowed at him before sliding to the side to inspect the floor, decidedly bored with the topic. No way was he going to play along so easily. Atsumu snorted in amusement. _That’s fine, ‘cause I know this is what ya_ really _want._

“You’re a mess, y’know that? You should see yourself. Ya look like you’ve been good an’ truly _fucked_.”

Sakusa’s eyes flew back up at him, the smallest breath of air escaping his lips. _Aha, now I’ve gotcha._ Atsumu flashed a cocky grin, pleased to have finally gained the upper hand. Too often had he been made to look the fool.

“Shall I describe it to ya, Omi-kun? How ya look like every Victorian’s wet dream with the way you’re showin’ off your tits an’ your smeared lipstick?” Sakusa’s eyes widened in simultaneous horror and delight. “O _ho_ , didn’t think about the blood smearin’, didja? And the hickeys? Didja stop to think about those?” The hitter bit his lip, giving him a look that would have brought lesser men down to their knees. Atsumu ignored the twitch in his hardening cock. 

He took one last step closer, slotting a leg between Sakusa’s as he released his chin in favor of grasping the mussed curls on the back of his head, tugging them to further expose the stained column of his neck.

“What was it ya said earlier? You can ‘get down an’ dirty with the rest of ‘em when ya feel like it’? Is clean freak Sakusa Kiyoomi secretly a dirty little slut?” He nudged Sakusa’s crotch with his thigh. A triumphant thrill raced down his spine when a quiet, strangled grunt slipped out from the brunet, his eyes squeezing shut at the contact.

“What, are ya hard already, Omi-kun? We haven’t even gotten started yet,” Atsumu grinned lazily at the man before him. _I could get used to this_. The setter pressed his leg against him again, pleasure rapidly pooling in his gut when Sakusa’s hips involuntarily spasmed against him. “ _Mm_ , what an eager little whore you are. Should we get your devil friend in here to watch me do what he couldn’t?”

Sakusa cracked his eyes open to glare at him, only for them to slide shut again with furrowed brows and a stifled moan when Atsumu jerked his thigh against him more forcefully in response.

“Better yet… I wonder what your perfect _Wakatoshi-kun_ would say if he could see you now, humpin’ my leg like this in a dirty, sleazy bar for anyone to see?” At that, Sakusa let out an audible gasp that devolved into a needy moan as his hips bucked against Atsumu. The sound itself nearly made the blond lose his tenuous control over his own body. He watched Sakusa hungrily, biting his lip so hard he nearly broke the skin. The feeling of the hitter’s hard-on rutting against his thigh made him ache with desire, the bump and grind of Sakusa’s leg against his own confined cock enough to drive him mad. _More. ‘S not enough._

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu breathed. Sakusa immediately stilled, hooded eyes locking on to Atsumu’s at the intimate use of his given name. They stared at each other for several long seconds, pupils blown wide, before simultaneously lunging for each other’s mouths, hands flying into hair and lips crashing together in a rough, desperate kiss, deaf to the obnoxious clatter of the forgotten baseball bat as it fell to the floor.

Atsumu felt light-headed and giddy at the feeling of Sakusa gasping into his mouth, both of them kissing in a frenzy, neither giving way to the other. They had been skirting around their attraction to one another for so long, disguising it with petty arguments and sarcastic bitching, that there was no time to waste on anything slow or romantic. They could cross that bridge later, should they ever get there. For now, it was just about satisfying their primal need for each other. 

Sakusa bit Atsumu’s lower lip with more force than necessary, smirking as he ripped a growl out of the setter’s throat. Atsumu retaliated with a rough shove of his thigh against Sakusa’s groin, tightening his hold on dark curls and attacking the taller man’s neck. The brunet threw his head back and thrusted his hips with a wanton moan as Atsumu sucked and bit at the dark bruise that made him react so viscerally earlier, making good on his private promise to cover the man in his own marks. His other hand reached between them to palm Sakusa’s chest, slipping through the deep, satin neckline in search of a hardened nipple. The hitter groaned as he pinched it expertly, flicking and teasing the bud until a whine escaped from him, his pelvis jerking wildly. Atsumu pulled away, grinning as he moved to lavish the same attention to the other side of Sakusa’s long neck, fingers circling and plucking the opposite nipple. 

“ _Ah_ – Atsumu,” Kiyoomi yanked his head up by his blond hair. He gasped as the handsome man lifted his face, his lips and the skin around them a brilliant red. The sight made him impossibly hard. _Is this what he was talking about before? It looking like smeared lipstick?_

“Hmm?” Atsumu’s lazy smile appeared once more, quickly puzzling out the reason for Sakusa’s shock. “Oh, the blood? Looks good, doesn’t it?” The setter moved to kiss him again, pressing his bulge against a thigh. Sakusa’s eyes fluttered shut as their tongues slid against each other, imagining how good it would feel to have Atsumu’s cock bare in his hand. Or better yet...

“Atsumu,” Sakusa broke away again.

“Mhmm,” Atsumu pressed a kiss to his cheek instead, trailing a path of them to his ear before tonguing and sucking on the lobe. 

“Bathroom.”

Atsumu pulled back with an incredulous look. “What, _now_?” he whined.

“Yes. _Now_.” Sakusa tugged Atsumu’s wrist, pulling him along to follow him to the single unisex restroom at the end of the hall. 

_Oh._ Fuck _yes_. Atsumu eagerly shut the door behind them, looking around as he locked it. It looked relatively clean, all things considered, but this was Sakusa they were talking about. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other in hesitation. “Omi, are ya sure?”

“Shut up and get over here.”

“Aye aye,” Atsumu grinned, settling into their previous position against the wall, ready to devour him once more.

“ _Mm_. You’re not paying attention, though. Look.” Sakusa nodded his head towards the wall adjacent to where they stood. Atsumu’s eyes followed the direction he gestured in, landing upon the large, floor-length mirror that hung there. He stared at their reflections, noting the smudged blood on his own face. _Huh. I do look pretty good with it._ He locked eyes with Sakusa in the mirror. _Not as good as_ that _, though. Goddamn..._

“Well well well, Omi-kun. You’re even dirtier than I thought,” Atsumu raised his eyebrows at the taller man’s reflection, to which the latter’s ears at least had the decency to redden a hint. Atsumu smiled deviously and turned his full attention back to the vampire, shoving him against the wall to resume their activities with renewed vigor.

Sakusa laughed breathlessly against Atsumu’s needy mouth, a whirl of lips and tongues and teeth. He seized a handful of blond hair and peppered kisses along his pulsing jugular, leaving a couple of his own marks in their wake. He made his way down the setter’s chest, about to kneel on the floor when Atsumu’s hands flew out to grab his arms and jerk him back up. 

“Omi, what the _fuck_ d’ya think you’re doin’?” Atsumu hissed at him, his bewildered face suddenly coming into view again. 

“What do you think we came in here for? I want to suck your dick.” Sakusa answered simply.

“You… you wanna…” Atsumu repeated faintly, eyes glazing over as if he could see the light of Heaven’s pearly gates shining upon him. He shook his head in disbelief, putting a hand up to stop Sakusa’s protests. “Believe me, I ain’t gonna stop ya. Just… hold on for a second, yeah?”

He shook off his flannel button-down, bending to lay it on the floor against the wall, the clean inside facing up. Kiyoomi stared at it, not quite believing what he was seeing. As he gawked at the offending garment, oddly touched by the gesture, he felt faint butterflies come to life in his stomach. They fluttered up into his chest as he looked back up at the other man. _Oh, no. Oh, fuck. Goddamnit._

Atsumu rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed by Sakusa’s intense stare. Did he make things awkward by doing that? He cringed at the thought of _anyone_ kneeling on the bathroom floor of a bar though, even if they _did_ enjoy getting “down and dirty”. _Especially_ if that person was Sakusa.

The man in question continued to gape silently at him, eyes now roaming appreciatively over Atsumu’s sculpted form in the tight, formerly-white tank top. He really did look ruggedly handsome like this, dirt and oil stains scattered here and there on his costume and face, traces of Sakusa’s fake blood on his lips and throat, hair ruffled and disorderly from restless hands. Kiyoomi would never admit it out loud, but… he looked like sex itself.

Sakusa lunged at him, catching Atsumu by surprise with a deep, desperate kiss, hands eagerly pulling the hem of his tank top up to expose his muscular abs and chest. Atsumu shifted to remove it completely, but Sakusa shook his head, mumbling into the setter’s mouth, “No, keep it on.”

“You’re just fulla surprises today, arentcha, Omi-kun?” Atsumu smiled crookedly against Sakusa’s lips, reaching between them to fumble at the button and zipper of his jeans, letting them fall past his knees. The other man hummed happily, hands alternating between squeezing pecs and tangling in dyed hair as he kissed and nipped along Atsumu’s jawline, angling his head to suck eagerly at his neck. Atsumu chuckled breathlessly as he caught sight of their reflections in the mirror: Dracula feasting upon a grimy, sexed-up mortal, the very image of a Halloween porno. He grunted as Sakusa bit and licked a particularly sensitive spot, spurring him to quickly slide his hands down and grab the hitter’s firm ass, fingers digging into muscle to roughly thrust their hips together. Sakusa gasped against his skin, pausing in his ministrations to hastily unfasten his own pants, gingerly stepping onto Atsumu’s flannel as he pulled his boxer-briefs down with them in one swift movement. He leaned back against the wall and stretched a hand out for the wide-eyed blond.

“Like I said, a Victorian wet dream,” Atsumu murmured, taking a few moments to appreciate the man before him. Sakusa scoffed and rolled his eyes, but quickly lost the fight against the smile that threatened to stretch his lips. Atsumu lightly shook his head in protest. “I’m serious. You’re a vision,” he said in a low, hushed voice, “You’re beautiful, Kiyoomi.”

He studied him intently, drinking in the mussed, dark curls, the hooded eyes and dilated pupils, the curve of swollen, red lips. His gaze swept across the loose-fitting top Sakusa still wore, the deep neckline exposing the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the full bishop sleeves blurring the outline of his well-toned arms. His inspection paused at the hem of the shirt, barely long enough to hide Sakusa’s straining erection. The faint outline of the tip pulled the fabric away from his body with a twitch. Kiyoomi shivered as the awe-struck look on Atsumu’s face suddenly turned predatory, fox eyes snapping up to lock with his before he surged forward with a growl, pinning him against the wall, mouths colliding sloppily. Atsumu’s fingers tugged Sakusa’s hair insistently as he pulled away to suck at the junction between neck and shoulder.

Kiyoomi cried out as teeth sunk into the muscle and a hand simultaneously wrapped around his length through the satin, pain and pleasure all at once. He clawed at the setter’s exposed shoulders, trying to keep his knees from buckling at the overwhelming, unfamiliar sensation of the soft material against his cock. Atsumu chuckled against his skin, twisting his wrist as he stroked, agonizingly slow, pleased to find the silky fabric already damp with pre-cum.

“Such a pretty thing,” he cooed as he pulled back to watch his partner, gently running his fingers through the messy curls. “Is this what you were hopin’ for when ya came out with us tonight? Didja do it on purpose, dressin’ up like this and makin’ me watch a stranger put his filthy hands on ya? Rilin’ me up ‘til I took ya for my own and punished ya in the bathroom like you deserve?” Kiyoomi’s breath caught in his throat, the harsh words contradicting Atsumu’s soothing caresses and almost loving tone. He moaned and rutted against the blond’s hand, eyebrows furrowing as he weakly shook his head in denial of the accusations.

Atsumu smirked and tightened his grip on inky locks again, drunk with the knowledge that the seemingly cold, sarcastic man before him could come undone from his touch. He squeezed Sakusa’s throbbing member, brushing smooth satin over the swollen head with his thumb, humming with delight when he felt a drop of liquid soak through the fabric. He leaned in to kiss him again, his honeyed voice dripping directly into an impatient mouth.

“I can’t wait for you to suck my cock, Kiyoomi,” he emphasized the name with another flick of the wrist, murmuring between nips and licks. “Can’t wait to watch you get on your knees and take as much of it as ya can into your pretty little mouth. Are you gonna do that for me, baby? You gonna be a good little whore for me?” He pulled away again to marvel at how cheeks and ears blushed at his words, quietly laughing when Sakusa blindly chased after his lips.

Kiyoomi cracked his eyelids open, narrow slits glaring at Atsumu’s antics. _This is a two-way street, or did you forget that?_ His eyes flashed as he snaked a hand between them, shoving it past a Calvin Klein waistband to take his revenge, refusing to go down without a fight. Atsumu blanched as the other man abruptly grabbed his aching erection, long fingers wrapping around the base. They both gasped at the sensation, Kiyoomi’s flimsy battle plan immediately falling apart.

He wasn’t expecting it to be so… _much._ Atsumu moaned and let his head fall back, closing his eyes as Sakusa explored, curious fingertips ghosting up and down the shaft. The handsome blond hissed as he rubbed the slit of the head, spreading the pearl of pre-cum that had gathered there. Kiyoomi watched the setter’s face in fascination. His fingers slowly encircled the tip, briefly squeezing before swiftly shoving back down to the base. Atsumu grunted, hips jerking in an attempt to repeat the movement.

From what Kiyoomi could tell, they were roughly the same length, but the setter definitely surpassed him in terms of girth. It lay thick and heavy in his hand, throbbing from the added pressure of his fingers on the artery, a slight, perfect curve that would feel heavenly inside… Sakusa swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of saliva. He pumped it again, twisting as he moved, Atsumu’s grip on his own cock keeping in time with his movements. Atsumu’s forehead came down to rest against his as they watched each other thrust in unison. Their eyes met, simultaneously realizing it was a game now, a competition to see who would break, who would surrender to sweet release first, who would be declared a winner in this battle of resistance.

Atsumu surged forward to claim his mouth again, prodding and massaging Sakusa’s tongue with his, licking, sucking, and biting his swollen lower lip. He desperately wanted to feel Sakusa’s rigid length in his bare hand, but knew the soft, silky fabric would bring him to the edge faster than his own rough, calloused palms. He could tell the taller man was quickly unraveling; his breathing became more and more labored, moans and whimpers more frequent, the pumping of his hand on Atsumu’s shaft increasingly erratic. 

The setter released Sakusa’s hair, trailing his hand down to squeeze his chest, pinching and pulling at taut nipples. Kiyoomi gasped and let his head fall back against the wall. His fingers weakly brushed along Atsumu’s rock-hard member, free hand lightly running over the exposed pecs and abs before him. The tank top bunched around Atsumu’s armpits and across the top of his broad chest like a harness; Kiyoomi dug his nails into muscle, dark eyes hazy at the thought. Atsumu hissed a breath in through his teeth at the pinpricks of pain, and pressed himself against Sakusa’s thigh.

“Please,” Kiyoomi moaned, his body tense, “please…”

“Whaddya need, Omi? Tell me,” Atsumu urged, biting his lip to keep himself from completely ravaging the man before him. “Tell me, baby, lemme give it to you.”

“I– _mm–_ wanna suck your cock. Please… _Atsumu._ ”

Atsumu closed his eyes and slowly released the air from his lungs, clenching his jaw as he tried to regain some semblance of control over himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Sakusa to call him by his first name, after all; it was a lethal weapon in the other man’s mouth, especially in that tone.

“Ah, not yet, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu breathed, “I want ya to come first.”

Sakusa stubbornly shook his head and glared, his mind and pride at war with his body even as it betrayed him with bucking hips and quivering thighs. Atsumu would never let it go if Kiyoomi crumbled first; he could just picture the smug bastard gloating about it to everyone they knew. _Why him? Of all the people in the world to be attracted to, why did it have to be_ him _?_ He groaned in annoyance and dug his heels in to try to resist the rapidly building pressure in his groin, determined to do the opposite of what his body so obviously wanted. He knew he was quickly running out of time. The satin was heaven against his dick, unimaginably soft and smooth, effortlessly hurtling him towards his climax... 

At the very least, he had to try one more time. Even in his lust-addled state, Kiyoomi had noticed the reaction his tormentor had to the pleas that unintentionally fell from his lips. It was his last hope.

“Please… Atsumu, _please_ ,” he rambled desperately, feeling the last threads of control beginning to slip through his fingers, “I want— _mm—_ need— _ah—_ to taste you— need you in me— _please—_ _fuck, ‘Tsumu!_ ”

Atsumu chuckled breathlessly through his lust. _God, this brat will be the death of me._ Never before could he have imagined hearing this haughty, beautiful man begging like this. He enjoyed it more than he thought possible.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. The faster you come, the faster you can put your pretty lips on my cock, yeah? I wanna make ya feel good, first. You’ve been so good, Kiyoomi. A perfect, filthy little slut.” He quickened the pace of his hand, admiring how debauched Sakusa looked as he lost himself to Atsumu’s touch again, writhing and moaning with reckless abandon, the remnants of that damned fake blood driving Atsumu mad with desire. 

“How’s it feel, baby? Tell me. Describe it to me,” he demanded.

“ _Mmm—_ soft, so soft… warm,” Sakusa gasped as Atsumu tightened his grip, pumping even faster, his other hand relentlessly plucking and twisting achingly sensitive nipples, “ _Tight—_ _ah—_ wet…” Atsumu’s eyes widened, helplessly rutting against Sakusa’s thigh, excited to hear more. 

“Kiyoomi… have y’ever been with a woman before?” He swallowed and licked his lips, imagination running wild. “Is it like that? Does it— _fuck—_ does it feel like you’re fuckin’ a tight little pussy?” Sakusa cried out, eyes squeezing shut at the provocative image Atsumu’s words produced, nodding emphatically. He clung to the blond’s sculpted neck and shoulders, legs trembling.

“ _Fuck._ Omi, that’s so fuckin’ sexy. God, look at ya, fuckin’ my hand like a desperate little virgin. I can’t wait to fuck your pretty mouth… see how far you can take my fat cock...”

Sakusa’s eyes fluttered open to stare through hooded lids, open-mouthed with arousal as his nails embedded into the setter’s shoulders. Atsumu grinned slyly at him, a delicious idea suddenly taking root in his mind. Carefully keeping his strokes on the brunet consistent, he adjusted himself so that he stood between long legs, his own hard-on in front of Sakusa’s. He smirked as the other man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re being greedy, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu purred. “I wanna see if it really does feel as good as you say.” With that, he rammed his massive cock into the same hand he had wrapped around the spiker, unceremoniously sliding against Sakusa’s length under the silky fabric. The taller man nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected contact, crying out as Atsumu groaned through gritted teeth, struggling to keep the pace he had going before. It felt… _amazing_. He didn’t think it would feel _this_ good. _Fuck_. The satin was a thousand times softer than he had imagined. It fluttered and teased the heads of their erections, their leaking pre-cum mixing together in the material. _No wonder he’s so close._

Sakusa’s forehead dropped onto his shoulder, a soft, steady stream of grunts sounding in time with each beat of his hand. Atsumu relished in the feeling of having the hitter’s naked cock pressed against his, each clumsy stroke and desperate thrust rubbing their frenulum against each other, satisfaction just barely dancing out of reach. 

“ _Shit_ , Omi. Fuck.” He grabbed a handful of dark curls, yanking his head back up to slot their mouths together. His hand furiously pumped their cocks through the satin, fingers not quite able to wrap around both of their shafts. Sakusa’s warm breath fanned across his skin.

“Close... ‘Tsumu... ‘m close. Keep— _ah—_ keep talking... _please—_ _mm_ — don’t stop— _more_...”

“ _Fuck_ , Omi. I want ya to watch. In the mirror. Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Can’t even gimme a proper handjob, you’re so blissed out. Ya spoiled brat,” Atsumu snorted in amusement, “How many people have touched you today? How should I punish ya for it, hmm? You wretched little _whore_. Keep watchin’ the mirror, ya hear me?” Sakusa nodded obediently, hazy eyes glued to the pornographic scene playing in the reflection. The corners of his lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at Atsumu’s dirty talk, every word, every touch pushing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay? Can ya do that for me, Kiyoomi?”

Sakusa whimpered and gave another jerky nod; he would have agreed to anything at that point. He struggled to keep his eyes open, vaguely noting how the expression on Atsumu’s face mirrored the one he usually wore just before scoring a glorious service ace. He bit his lip as his balls tightened at the thought.

Satisfied with his answer, Atsumu bent his head down to take a raw nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it before clamping it between them, flicking his tongue over the swollen nub, pinching and teasing the opposite one with his free hand. Sakusa gasped and arched his back as the pain-pleasure combined with the visuals, cock slipping and sliding as he feverishly thrusted against Atsumu’s length.

“ _Ah—_ _fuck ohmygod_ _‘msoclose—_ ” Kiyoomi gritted his teeth and hurriedly yanked his shirt out of Atsumu’s grip and off their conjoined members. 

Atsumu froze for a split second, hesitant to keep up the punishing pace now that there was no barrier between his calloused skin and Sakusa’s sensitive length. The disruption in tempo earned him horrified cries as Sakusa desperately bucked into his fist, furious claws in his shoulders paired with the dirtiest looks he’d received from the hitter to date. The setter laughed out loud at his outrage as he quickly worked their shafts in tandem again, his cocky smirk settling back home onto his stupid, charming face, tongue teasingly running over a canine. 

Kiyoomi desperately hated him for it, but his mind and body disagreed. A loud groan erupted from his chest at the feel of rough digits on him, the intimacy of skin-on-skin contact making up for the abrupt change in texture. The satin was heavenly, to be sure, but the psychological effects this arrangement inspired was another beast entirely. To Kiyoomi, hands were always more intimate than sexual organs; it was why one could potentially have a friend with benefits for a year or more without ever once holding their hand. It was a huge reason why his own were always shoved into pockets and kept far away from other people, germs aside.

But there was just something so attractive about Miya Atsumu’s hands: the pride he took in his sets and serves, the care he invested into keeping them strong and well-manicured, the way they could poke and prod and tease Kiyoomi’s buttons… and not always in a bad sense, as they were quickly discovering.

Suddenly, he was there. 

“ _Ngh—_ Atsumu, I’m gonna come—,”

“Oh _fuck_ — I want ya to come on me, Kiyoomi. Want you to watch as you come all over me. Lemme see you, baby, c’mon,” Atsumu urged as his eyes feasted upon Sakusa’s face, taking in every eyelash, every stray curl, every bead of sweat as he angled their members towards himself.

Sakusa gave a few short thrusts as he locked hooded eyes with Atsumu, teetering on the edge of the precipice, suspended in time. Atsumu mirrored his open-mouthed arousal, holding his breath as he watched the brunet’s face begin to crumple. 

“Let go, Kiyoomi. I’ve gotcha. Come for me.”

Kiyoomi cried out as his vision exploded with white stars, hot, milky ropes of cum shooting out from his throbbing cock and painting themselves onto Atsumu’s chest and abdomen. The setter pinned Sakusa against the wall to watch him unravel, slowing his strokes to help draw out the hitter’s orgasm for as long as possible. Dark eyes fluttered as they drank in the erotic sight of his cum streaking onto muscle and sinew, coaxing even more fluid to splatter across Atsumu’s torso. Each bat of his eyelashes captured a snapshot for his mental archive, quickly and carefully stowing the images away for future perusal. 

“There ya go,” Atsumu smiled with smug satisfaction, preening for his lover, muscles flexing as the warm liquid hit him. “God, look at ya. You’re so _fuckin’_ gorgeous. Such a pretty little thing.”

Kiyoomi gasped as it dragged on, every atom of his being flooding through his core to become offerings for the other man, as if Atsumu had turned him inside-out with each pull of his fingers, every ugly, vulnerable inch of him on display for honey-brown eyes to inspect and discard as they saw fit. Whatever it was the handsome blond saw, he hummed with absolute delight, drawing the last ribbon of Sakusa’s very essence out of him with a low moan and a shudder. Long legs quaked with the effort to stay upright as Kiyoomi slouched against a steady arm, a temporary beam supporting a crumbling pillar. 

Kiyoomi’s ragged breath caught in his throat when Atsumu lifted his hand to his lips, infamous tongue slowly dragging along flexed fingers to taste the salty seed that coated his skin. 

“Now, let’s see what that pretty mouth can do,” Atsumu growled with a smirk, that carnivorous look back in his eyes. He lazily pumped his stiff, aching cock and licked his lips. 

“Kneel.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> shoutout to [akane](https://twitter.com/bottomikun/) for dealing w my incoherent ramblings even tho i only gave her a single line to read hahaha
> 
> if you enjoyed this, you can share the tweet for it [here](https://tinyurl.com/y6thxstb)!
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/pecanpi_/)!


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